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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)	By : GizmoTrinket Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4625 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any iteration, BBC or otherwise. I make no money from this work in any way, shape or form

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
A/N: Sherlock's POV this time. You may have noticed the POV changes at the end. I don't want to spoil a chapter so hopefully I broke it up well enough for you to notice.
Chapter 2: An Inappropriate Gift was the Only Appropriate Gift for the Situation
Sherlock frowned. He had been researching godparents and there was a lot of information. The main point, as far as he could see, was to name someone to help raise the child if anything happened to the parents. He was the very last person he'd pick to raise a child or help the child with their religious growth throughout their life. That second part was apparently part of a godparent's duties. It was INSANITY.
Why did John choose him?
Lestrade and Molly had tried to distract Sherlock with cases and thumbs to no avail. How could he focus on The Work with this hanging over his head? He tried talking to Molly about it. Apparently she was chosen as the godmother. She told him he really didn't have to do anything other than show up to the baptism, follow instructions and bring a gift. He had a bunch of questions. What about after? How often was he expected to see Rosamund? What was expected of him when he saw her? Would he be expected to do anything religious? Wikipedia said he needed to take an interest in the child's upbringing and personal development. What did that mean? He was pretty sure he wasn't allowed to take the scientific interest he wanted to: measuring growth, marking milestones, teaching, studying the spaw- no, child's, no- Rosemund's reactions to each person in depth...
He shook himself. John would say what he wanted Sherlock to do. It seemed that some godparents never saw some of the children after they were baptised and being chosen could just be seen as an honorary position. So this might be John's way of saying "thank you" for getting rid of Magnussen. After all, John probably didn't want Sherlock too involved. If John did he would have called him when Rosamund was born so Sherlock could get a good baseline for study.
What the brunette needed to worry about first was a gift. He was pretty sure no matter what gift he got it would be considered inappropriate. John told him outright not to get any gifts for his wedding.
"Just you showing up and behaving will be enough." John had said. Mary agreed. Or, at least she didn't argue.
Sherlock wasn't sure he managed to "behave" but he saved John's ex-boyfri-, ex-commander, ex-whatever and prevented John more emotional pain. That was probably a better present than the waltz.
Asking for another interesting murder or attempted murder at this function would be too much. He couldn't plan one nor could he count on one happening. Considering the mother's background it wasn't exactly unlikely. But John hadn't said no gifts and the invitation he'd gotten from Mary hadn't either. Not even the handwritten note she included. The waltz must have been considered a nice appropriate gift. Sherlock was equal parts relieved and disappointed he couldn't just write another piece of music without seeming boring.
Maybe he should just get something he knew was inappropriate? That was probably what everyone wanted. Sherlock knew John wasn't very religious. The consulting detective was surprised they were having a baptism. Oddly enough Mary was the more religious of the two so it was probably her doing. He wondered why she allowed John to choose him as a godparent. She was his current commander and if she had really wanted she would have found a way to convince John to not include him. Maybe this whole thing was her idea, like the best man. He would have been able to weasel out of the wedding if he hadn't had such an important part in it.
As far as he could see the point of all gatherings was to enjoy other people's company. Sherlock was not someone invited when people wanted to enjoy things. Usually he was invited to give the other people something to gossip about or as a distraction. Sometimes he was invited so people had a universal person to hate; that way their own petty problems were put to the side and they could enjoy the comrade of having a common enemy.
A lot of gatherings with babies, like baby showers (he wasn't invited to one for Rosamund) were so the family could get all the expensive things that went into adding a new member to the family. Therefore, the family didn't expect him to provide a useful gift.
Sherlock decided to make a mental list:
Inappropriate gifts: Pros and Cons
Pros:
Well, he'd already thought of all the pros.
Cons:
This was the part Sherlock needed to focus on. If he got a really inappropriate gift people might think he's more of a freak. But, the people who were going to be there either already knew what he was like or were irrelevant so Sherlock didn't care what they thought. If he got a body part they might deem him unworthy of seeing the child which would be a mixed blessing. But, he was expected to take over if something happened to John and Mary. And... if Sherlock was being honest with himself (which he really hated to do) if something happened to John the consulting detective knew he'd do anything possible to protect the other man's progeny but he'd never have the opportunity. Mary would disappear with the child. If something happened to Mary John would rely on Molly and Sherlock to help raise Mary's baby. Sherlock was positive he would be terrible at it but he would do anything to help John, to see John, to be with J-
STOP it!
If Sherlock got something seriously inappropriate people would talk (they do little else) and they might not let him near the baby ever again. Maybe this was why he was invited. So he'd never be allowed near the child and if he wasn't allowed near the child he'd never see John in the next two decades and by then John will have forgotten all about him. John wouldn't even feel guilty or anything. It was the best thing for Rosamund, after all.
The cons outweighed the pros so he had to get an appropriate gift. And he needed to act all... normal. Urgh! So boring. Well, not boring. Stressful.
Sherlock's fingers glided over his phone's screen.
To: Lestrade
What is an appropriate gift for a baptism? SH
Lestrade replied almost immediately.
I don't know. Something for the kid I guess.
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
Obviously. But what? SH
His phone pinged after enough time for Sherlock to know Lestrade tried to think but didn't try very hard.
A blanket? Something pink?
Dull! Besides, if he got something as mundane as a blanket people would probably think he dosed it with something or planned on suffocating the child with it. And pink, really?! No.
What are you getting? SH
The reply was quick.
Haven't gotten anything yet. Haven't thought about it.
Sherlock sighed. He tried Molly next. After two and a half hours of rejected ideas she suggested a kitten. A kitten! She was clearly insane! His response to that idea caused her to stop responding to his texts. He could have gone to Bart's and asked in person but he really didn't want to leave the flat until this was settled.
He called down for Mrs. Hudson but she didn't respond. He didn't hear the telly so he figured she must be out.
Sherlock tried the internet next. The first result was a donation to a children's hospital. That was a worse idea than a kitten. The next few sites were all religious. Bibles, cross necklaces and other religious paraphernalia. That would be a little hypocritical (especially if he couldn't keep himself from spewing the lecture on the idiocy of various religious customs he was very carefully not constructing in his mind).
But, he was strangely drawn to the idea of jewellery. If John never saw him again after this then maybe he'd keep the jewellery for the baby, if it was something nice. But jewellery wasn't really useful. John had commented he liked the waltz but he didn't really know what to do with it after. Sherlock suspected Mary binned it.
Sherlock had a vision of Rosamund's first day of school. She was being bullied but she drew strength from her pendant, it was engraved and she knew that someone would always look out for her.
He shook himself from the odd daydream.
An engraved pendant. How sentimental! It wouldn't really be useful either. What could he get that would be useful? She was too young for lock picks or a pocket knife. Really the only bad thing that could happen to her at her age would be being kidnapped.
The brunette couldn't get her a tracking device... Could he? No, that would be completely inappropriate. Useful though. He would be first person John would turn to if Rosamund went missing and finding her would be so easy if she had something the consulting detetive could activate then follow.
He saw some customizable crosses that had birthstones. If he got the jewellery he could engrave it and people would be so focused on the out of character gift they'd ignore anything else. Yes, Sherlock was sure a tracking device would be completely socially inappropriate (but logically the most appropriate) and if no one but him knew what the gift really was...
It was perfect.
There was a jeweller who owed him a favour. He could get something custom made. No nickel, in case she was allergic. Not too heavy. Maybe titanium for durability? But titanium got dirty and faded quickly. Mary and John couldn't be dragging it to the cleaners all the time. Platinum? The jeweller would have ideas. The cross just needed to be unique and interesting so John and Mary would keep it and so Rosamund would keep it on her as she aged. Nothing she'd get teased for.
He'd never designed anything. Again, the jeweller's preview.
What he also needed was a tracking device that would last. He couldn't guarantee he'd be there to change out batteries. He also couldn't count on someone else to change out batteries. If it came with unlimited cleaning the jeweller could change out the batteries but there was no guarantee that John and Mary would stay close. They could move anywhere and wouldn't travel just for a free cleaning.
Sherlock's hands moved from their thinking position to his phone.
To: Fatty
I require assistance. SH
Mycroft's reply was immediate.
What's wrong? Do you have a list? Where are you? MH
Sherlock scowled.
I haven't taken anything. Thank you for your faith in me. SH
Mycroft was obiviously confused by this as it took him ages to reply.
Then why are you bothering me? I'm busy. MH
Sherlock was tempted to tease his brother. Something about his weight and cake but he decided against it. If he was nice maybe Mycroft wouldn't be too horrible about helping him.
I am creating a gift for the baptism and I require a device you have access to. SH
To which you have access. MH
Does that mean you'll help? SH
Sherlock left out the second half of his question (for once instead of being difficult and generally useless) in the spirit of being nice.
What do you need exactly? MH
Sherlock explained his plan and Mycroft denied him access to the tracking device they gave MI6 agents going undercover for long missions. Sherlock had one implanted in his upper thigh (it was how Mycroft was able to track him down while he was "dead") but he wanted one specifically made for Rosamund. Sherlock decided that was silly and sentimental. He wasn't planning on working for his brother ever again and if he did Mycroft would get him another tracker.
He knew approximately where the device was. But it was very small and might have moved in the years since it was injected into his thigh.
Sherlock dug out a high powered metal detector he acquired once while he was bored and swept his leg. Sherlock found the tiny device's approximate location but there was no real way to tell the depth. Sherlock considered the risk versus reward. He couldn't go steal one now, Fatcroft would be watching for that. He didn't know where else to find an activateable (and therefore untraceable) tracking device half the size of a grain of rice that didn't require batteries for at least twenty years. Sherlock wasn't a doctor but he knew there went any major veins where it was...
He cleaned a scalpel.
----
To: Molly
I require assistance. SH
No response.
To: Lestrade
I require assistance. SH
The response was quick.
What now?
Sherlock was having trouble typing with the amount of blood on his hands. He made a mental note to compare the reactivity issues in various smart phones caused by blood versus water.
I miss calculated the blood loss issue s sh
Well, he could blame that text on the light headedness. He stared at the hateful typos until Lestrade responded.
What? Are you ok? Where are you?
Sherlock started typing and immediately gave up on correcting anything.
livingroom not as shuch may need amublance ss h
Maybe he should turn autocorrect back on?
Hold on Sherlock. Help is on the way.
'Oh, well. That's good.' Sherlock thought and closed his eyes.
----
Sherlock woke up in the ambulance but they sent (drugged) him back under. He suspected because he was "being difficult."
He woke up in a private room next.
"Want to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?" Lestrade was in a chair next to the bed.
Sherlock frowned. He was having trouble focusing. "Needed to get the thing for the gift." He explained.
"The baptism gift? For John's daughter?"
"Obviously!" Sherlock huffed.
"It was in your leg? The thing you needed?" Lestrade paused but only to draw breath. "Why did you try to get it out yourself?"
Sherlock was starting to come around properly and he knew he made a mistake talking about the gift. If Lestrade opened his mouth and told anyone anything it would be more than a bit not good. "What? The leg thing? No, don't be stupid Lestrade. That was an experiment."
"I'm not stupid and I'm not going to fall for that. I don't know what you think you were doing but you nearly died. You might have crippled yourself." That was the problem with Lestrade. Every once in a while he was observant. Usually at the worst times.
"Irrelevant."
"Irrelevant?!" Lestrade was flabbergasted. "How?!" He sighed when Sherlock didn't respond. "Well, at least you're ok. And hopefully you accomplished whatever it was you thought you were doing."
Sherlock decided to be completely honest. He'd probably regret it later but if it made Lestrade get on his side against Mycroft it'd be worth it. "I didn't. Once I'm home I'll have to try again."
They argued back and forth about what Sherlock was allowed to do. Lestrade telling him he couldn't do something was just making him want to do it more.
Finally, Lestrade broke. "Get a grip man! She's just a girl."
"That's the thing. She's not just a girl. She's never been just a girl." Sherlock snapped in response. He cursed whatever painkillers were making him so candid.
"Yeah." Lestrade's face fell. He looked older than his years and sad. "Yeah, I know."
Sherlock winced. Was he that transparent?
Mycroft's entrance saved him from responding.
Sherlock glared at his older brother.
Said brother gave a very put upon sigh. "Fine. I'll get you what you need."
"Well, that's settled. You could have saved us this whole ordeal if you'd done so in the first place." Sherlock replied to start the fight Mycroft tired to sidestep.
Lestrade blinked between the two of them. "You mean you... Did you know he'd do this?"
"I had hoped he would be reasonable." Mycroft turned to the silver haired man and pretended Sherlock wasn't in the room.
"God, I thought you were the smart one!" Lestrade clapped his hands over his mouth as soon as the words were out. It was a bad idea to insult people with power.
Sherlock laughed.
"I am the smart one." Mycroft argued, the tone was intended to be sharp but was actually rather pouty.
Sherlock didn't want to take pity on his brother. Unfortunately, he knew the trials of loving someone who would never return the sentiment. "Then go get what I need and leave me alone." he growled, trying to allow his brother a quick exit.
"Well, I'm glad I can tell Mummy you'll recover fully. I was hoping this near death experience would change your attitude..." Mycroft was grasping at straws. Trying to find any excuse to stay.
Sherlock snorted. Couldn't he hear the steps coming to the room? Idiot.
Molly entered and immediately had Lestrade's full attention. Unfortunately she didn't even acknowledge him until Sherlock had greeted her and assured her he would be fine. She lamented about how guilty she felt for not answering his text.
The consulting detective lost interest in her ramblings and filtered.
Mycroft looked at everyone in the room, each pining for someone unattainable (and/or clueless). Sherlock watched him and they shared a look. "You get yourself in the most ridiculous situations, brother mine."
"Mmm." Sherlock agreed. "Something we have in common."
"Yes." Mycroft did the slimy smirk he wore whenever the youngest sibling managed to win a conversation. "I'll leave what you need at your residence. Along with instructions that should help your... cause."
Sherlock refused to thank him. "If it's not too much trouble. I mean, I don't need you to get me one." He knew he'd owe his brother a favour after this. If Mycroft had been smarter, Sherlock mused, he'd have bartered before Sherlock was injured and could counter with Mummy's wrath.
Anthea appeared, showed Mycroft something on her mobile and they left to do their "important" business.
A few well placed deductions about his nurse and Sherlock was encouraged (drugged) to sleep. The next day he discharged himself. He needed a cane to walk until his leg healed and he hobbled up the stairs with the traditional medical aluminium crutch. The first thing he did was throw the vile device out the window to the dismay of the pedestrians below. When he realized he would need it to get back up the stairs he ordered a wood one with a "hidden" sword. Sherlock charged it, the fee for express overnight shipping and a few miscellaneous chemicals to Mycroft's credit card.
When Mycroft saw it he would have three choices, confront his brother and allow Sherlock grounds to tease him (Mycroft's umbrella wasn't allowed to contain a hidden sword and nothing he said could convince his superiors to change their minds), cancel the transaction which would result in Sherlock reordering with a bigger total each time until he either cancelled the card (Sherlock had several others) and started a war that would result in Sherlock teasing the fat git anyway or just letting it go.
Mrs. Hudson brought the package up for him the next day.
----
"What should the engraving say?" His jeweller asked.
They'd been working on the pendant design for more than 70 hours over several days. Sherlock didn't bother coming up with this part until he knew how big it would be. Sherlock was allowed ten characters (including spaces) and he had no idea what to do with them.
The jeweller seemed to understand. "What do you want to convey?"
That was easy. "That she's loved... and will always be safe."
"Hmmm..." The jeweller mused before shaking his head. "Well, think about it. It's the last part anyway."
Sherlock thanked him. It was a show of patience on both parts to get this piece designed but the man was gifted in his craft and Sherlock was sure it would be perfect.
----
"Oh, you didn't have to get anything." Mary was using that voice that indicated she was only saying the words due to stupid social constructs that everyone knew were stupid followed anyway.
Sherlock wasn't sure what the socially correct response was so he kept silent.
Mary pulled the ribbon from the top opened the velvet box. She took a look at the pendant before flipping it over then dismissed it.
John took it from the table. "Jewellery?" He seemed surprised.
"Yes. I have various chains length underneath for when she grows. The one attached is for her ankle. But if you prefer her to wear it on her wrist it's there." Sherlock said. He hoped they'd put it on her now. There weren't any exclamations of beauty or anything and he was starting to wonder if he did something wrong.
John took it out and studied it. He flipped it over and saw the engraving. He looked confused and pained.
Sherlock was now positive he'd made a mistake. "If you don't like it I can get something else..."
"No, no. It's perfect." John swallowed. "Thank you." He asked Mary for the wrist chain.
"It's safe, right?" Mary asked, holding the box out of her husband's reach.
"Of course! I thought of everything." Sherlock was insulted. What, did they think he had it coated in lead?
"What does it say?" Molly asked.
"Be safe" John swallowed. "Then there's a heart."
There were many "Awwww"s and "That's so sweet!"s.
Sherlock tried to explain, saying that since Rosemund's name implied she was a protector like her father (though of horses, or other animals since it was unlikely she'd be around horses all that often...) someone needed to look after her. He chose a wing to imply a guardian angel since this was a religious affair and a cross would be rather blasphemous coming from him. He wanted her to know that someone would always be there for her no matter what and that people loved her unconditionally when things got difficult. The gem was turquoise, the December birthstone for both the US and Britain. And, since this whole thing was ridiculous he decided to explain why turquoise was considered an "All Types of Protection" stone for multiple religions. Personally, he this seemed appropriate because it was insoluble in all solutions (he'd personally verified given the time allotted) except heated hydrochloric acid.
Sherlock purposefully neglected to mention that the turquoise was hollow and had a tracking device sealed inside that no-one save Mycroft and the consulting detective had the codes to activate therefore making it a literal all types of protection stone. The female population seemed to think his ramblings were the sweetest thing they'd ever heard and wouldn't shut up about it. At one point Mrs. Hudson burst out in tears and hugged him. He was tempted more than once to reveal that his gift wasn't actually sentimental nonsense.
Mary thought it was too unsafe to have the charm on Rosamund's wrist ("She could choke on it!") so John attached it to her ankle.
While everyone was focused on that process Sherlock escaped as quickly as his cane would allow. He smoked a cigarette and decided that he did better than expected and the only thing he could accomplish now was bollixing it all up. He knew John would think it was rude for him to leave without saying goodbye but if the brunette returned he'd have to deal with people taking offence at his relatively harmless habit. Sherlock remembered some of the arguments John and he had over the lingering smell alone. He wasn't sure what would be worse, if John snapped at him or if he said nothing.
His fingers found his phone.
To: John
So glad you both liked my gift. Contact me anytime for anything. SH
It was probably too much but Sherlock hit send anyway. He hailed a taxi and returned to 221B.
----
---
----
Mary frowned when the lanky moron refused to shut up. Everyone present would know beyond a doubt that Sherlock cared for her child. Rosamund had enough people targeting her because of her parents (yes, John too) and she didn't need all the people who wanted to hurt Sherlock coming after her too.
The cell phone in John's pocket pinged shortly after Sherlock disappeared. Mary lifted it from him while he was distracted and read it.
Scowling she typed a response.
It was very sweet and all but rather dangerous to show your hand like that. MW
Mary hit send knowing that at least Sherlock would take steps to fix his mistake and maybe inadvertently help her in the process. She then deleted the text from John's phone and returned the device so John would remain clueless.
Later, when she was watching the infant sleep soundly in John's arms, she wondered if she could trust Sherlock to help her if she told him everything.
A/N: So, posting this now because I'm positive I'll forget later. Chapter 3 hasn't been edited so that'll come later. I've written though chapter 9 and I'll update sporattically. I'll try to keep it once a week on Mondays but you may want to subscribe now because once I say I'm going to do something I do the exact opposite. I'll probably end up posting on Friday every other week. *Rolls eyes at self*
Prompts this time: #2 Inappropriate gifts: benefits and drawbacks + writing prompt #141: "get a grip, man. She's just a girl." "That's the thing. She's not just a girl. She's never been just a girl."
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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)